


world looks better

by helloearthlings



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9444506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: The next night, there were already flowers in Arthur’s dressing room when he returned from offstage – daisies this time, a little classier than grocery store flowers. The note inside them was just signed –M but it made Arthur smile. When he got home, he added them to the slightly upturned bowl of water that was holding the last night’s bouquet.The next night, they were daffodils. The night after that, they were tulips. The night after that, Arthur finally bought a vase.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me can't believe I wrote two things in two days, both of them in my college dorm building, the place that invented writer's block. Anyway, this is another short + sweet fic. I've got a few of those in the works and some free time on Thursday, so maybe you'll see something else then. Hope you like this one!

The sweat on Arthur’s forehead caused his hair to cling to his skin. He ran a hand through it, the impressions of the stage lights still hot and heavy even though he was well on his way toward his dressing room by now. The leftovers of adrenaline from the show still flitted within him, but they were close to sparking out.

He banged open the door to his dressing room, cursing as his knee slammed into it on his way inside. He collapsed onto the nearest available service in a great show of dramatis – he was an actor, after all – and reached blindly for his water bottle that he knew had to be around here somewhere.

He hated being offstage, Arthur thought hazily as he chugged half of the bottle, his burning throat miraculously improving in instants. Onstage, he had a thousand lives. Here –

Here, he just had this life.

Not a bad life, considering – he was finally doing what he wanted to do with his life, just without the support of his father, his sister, or any of his former friends, cut off from the wealth and comfort he’d been so accustomed to.

The price he paid, he supposed.

Arthur drew his knees up to his chest, rolling his head in circles as he idly wondered how long it was since he’d seen a chiropractor. Too long, he decided. He probably hadn’t seen any sort of doctor since rehearsals for Mad Forest started, and that had been six weeks ago. Now the show would run through the next month, but surely Arthur could see someone in the morning…

Lost in thoughts of how nice it would feel to have full range of motion of his neck again, Arthur barely cracked an eyelid open when he heard the dressing room door start to creak.

“I’m busy,” Arthur muttered in the door’s general direction, but whoever it was clearly didn’t listen, because the door opened a moment later and Arthur forced his eyes open in a haughty glare.

“Hey, Arthur.”

Shit. It was Merlin.

Arthur quickly schooled his features into something vaguely resembling a smile. Merlin was Mad Forest’s director, and Arthur had to somehow convey some amount of happiness at the show they’d created. Which he _was_ experiencing, really; the show had gone beautifully, nothing amiss. The crowd had loved it. _Arthur_ had loved it – that was, until he got offstage and reality set in again.

“You…” Arthur looked up at Merlin’s face; the other man’s expression was actually a bit nervous, which wasn’t an emotion that Arthur often saw on his face. In their six weeks together, Merlin had been clever and charismatic at all times – well, except that first week when they had hated the living hell out of each other.

But apparently that had changed, because –

“You brought my flowers?” Arthur asked, noticing the bouquet of an array of brightly colored petals hanging limply at Merlin’s side. Merlin glanced down at the flowers almost guiltily for a moment before looking back at Arthur. He didn’t quite meet his eyes, though.

Nervous. Merlin was nervous. Why was he nervous? His nervousness was making Arthur nervous.

“I did, yeah,” Merlin admitted after a beat. “I was hoping I could just drop them here amongst your legions of flowers from adoring fans, but…”

“Don’t really have any of those,” Arthur remarked as they both looked across the barren room. None of Arthur’s costars had even dropped by to say good job. Then again, Arthur wasn’t gracing their doorsteps, so it wasn’t like he could complain. “And my father is hardly approving of my career choice. He’d never see a show.”

“But…” Merlin’s eyebrows creased together. “Friends? A girlfriend?”

Arthur shook his head, unpleasantness churning in his stomach at Merlin’s realization that Arthur was as alone as they came. “Not really.”

“Well, um, here,” Merlin thrust the flowers toward him with a little too much gusto. Arthur took them, still a little bemused. “They’re a bit of an apology for how I treated you that first week.”

“I think I should be the one apologizing to you,” Arthur pointed with a wry chuckle. On the first day of rehearsal, Arthur had just gotten off the phone with his father, who told him under no uncertain terms would be getting any of his inheritance if he didn’t quit acting and come back to work for his tech empire. Arthur had hung up on him, but had come to Mad Forest in a raging mood.

Mad Forest was only Arthur’s third show in London that wasn’t performed on the side of the road, so it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t recognize Merlin at first, even with the other man’s stellar reputation as a director. Merlin had spilled a drink on Arthur’s shoes, Arthur had thought he was a stagehand – because who else would be pulling at ropes backstage? – and had shouted himself hoarse about a lack of respect before realizing that Merlin was the show’s director and potentially held Arthur’s acting future in his hands.

Merlin, in a show of unsurprising vindictiveness, hadn’t been very kind to Arthur for the first couple of weeks before they got into a rhythm, trading their barbs and retorts for one another into…well, barbs and retorts, but they turned into a show of camaraderie between the two of them.

“I deserved it,” Arthur added, wincing through his reflection at how much of an idiot he’d been that first day, and how much of a dick he’d been to Merlin for those first couple of weeks, purposefully going out of his way to annoy someone who had given a nobody actor a leading role in his show.

“Well, a little, but I was _trying_ to be nice,” Merlin rolled his eyes sarcastically, but a smile played at his lips and Arthur found himself smiling back. “Really, Arthur. You’re a good actor. When this run’s done, tell me to recommend you to any director in the city and I will. But you _could_ also stick with me for my _next_ show.”

“I see, so these flowers are a bribe,” Arthur couldn’t help but feel a little like the proud and arrogant persona he tended to show the world. But if he could get a director who initially despised him to come around and want to work with him again, that was a show of charm Arthur didn’t think he had in him.

“They are _not_ ,” Merlin said, sounding almost scandalized, and Arthur laughed at how seriously he took the insinuation. “I already told you I thought they’d be lost in the legions of flowers from your dozens of admirers. I wasn’t even going to bring it up until further into Mad Forest’s run, but this seemed to be a golden opportunity.”

“What’s the show?” Arthur asked, but a part of him already knew he’d say yes even if it was some obscure piece of body imagery, and not just because of Merlin’s reputation in the London theatre industry, but just...because. “Let me guess – it’ll be weird and obscure and anti-government themed.”

Merlin laughed. “Well, maybe. This play…well, I wrote it.”

“I didn’t know you were a playwright,” Arthur said, a smile dancing on his lips, picturing Merlin with messy, flyaway hair in the middle of the night hunched over a typewriter – and why a typewriter, Arthur had no idea, but Merlin did have an old, classic, rumpled look about him that fit well with the typewriter aesthetic.

Merlin shrugged, his cheeks turning pink. “Well, this is my first stab at it. It’s called _The Last Dragonlord_ and has a nice, shiny male lead that could be yours for the mere price of…getting paid.”

“ _The Last Dragonlord_ ,” Arthur didn’t even try not to laugh as his eyes raked Merlin’s bare arm, a scaly dragon’s tail curling around his wrist and encircling his forearm and bicep, presumably going to his back. “Such a nerd. I bet you played Dungeons and Dragons all the time when you were a kid.

“Yuck it up,” Merlin made a face at him but it didn’t last, his lips twitching into a smile before long. “Sleep on it, yeah? I don’t need an answer yet.”

“Okay,” Arthur agreed, hand curling over the stems of the flowers that Merlin had given him, thinking that he’d have to buy a vase for his dank, bare apartment. He wasn’t used to not having enough money to splurge for something like that, but it felt necessary to keep the flowers for a little while.

Merlin noticed his hands on the flowers and grinned. “The flowers are for tonight, though. You were great, Arthur. Perfect, really. I’ll see you tomorrow – oh, and see a chiropractor. Your shoulder’s weirdly tense.”

Arthur laughed, waving Merlin out of his room as he rolled his shoulder a couple of times, and didn’t remember why he’d been so miserable before.

* * *

 

The next night, there were already flowers in Arthur’s dressing room when he returned from offstage – daisies this time, a little classier than grocery store flowers. The note inside them was just signed _–M_ but it made Arthur smile and when he got home, he added them to the slightly upturned bowl of water that was holding the last night’s bouquet.

The next night, they were daffodils. The night after that, they were tulips. The night after that, Arthur finally bought a vase.

“I spent eight whole dollars on a plastic vase because you’re trying to _woo_ me into saying yes to being in your show,” Arthur mock-complained to Merlin before curtain that night, trying not to show how _nice_ he thought it was. Because it was. Nice. It was really nice.

Merlin seemed to get the cover-up, his lips twitching in Arthur’s direction as the rest of the cast and crew bustled around them, inane chatter floating through the air in the form of pre-show jitters. “I’m hardly wooing you.”

“Yes, you are,” Arthur argued. “Don’t you know that only works with girls?”

“Hasn’t failed with you yet,” Merlin said in a sing-song voice. “I’m running out of kinds of flowers, though. My friend Gwen is a flower guru, thankfully, and is providing me with all kinds of different options. She’s also educating me on something called flower language? I totally don’t get it, so try not to read into the colors of your lilies tonight – I just went with whatever was cheapest.”

“That’s not the kind of information you divulge to your woo-ee,” Arthur pointed out, stifling a laugh with his fist. “Admirers are supposed to remain mysterious in their ways. Adds to the intrigue.”

“I’m an admirer now?” Merlin asked and Arthur snorted in response.

“You’ve gotten me flowers seven nights in a row. That’s admirer territory.”

“Oh, I’m definitely running out of flowers before the six weeks are up,” Merlin mused aloud. “And I’m saving roses for closing night, of course.”

“You’re _not_ buying me forty-two bouquets of flowers in as many days,” Arthur told him, a bit shocked that he’d even consider it. It had been a fun little game, but that was a shit ton of money. “I know you’re, like, a big deal around here, but theatre doesn’t pay well no matter what. I’m just keeping you in suspense; I was only going to wait until next week to say yes.”

“So?” Merlin blinked at him, though he pumped his fist in victory at Arthur’s admission of what his answer would be. “I’m still getting you roses on closing night.”

“It’s your paycheck,” Arthur waved as he left to get into costume for the performance, wondering what Merlin was playing at until after the performance that night, when there was a more expansive note alongside the yellow tiger lilies on Arthur’s dresser.

_You can’t possibly think I’m still asking about the part. –M_

And _then_ Arthur felt like an idiot.

A pretty happy idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.

* * *

 

Arthur planned on keeping Merlin in suspense about this matter as well. However, he found it a little harder to accomplish, seeing as how Arthur kissed him the next time Merlin smiled at him.

* * *

 

A dozen red roses and a bottle of champagne decorated Arthur’s dresser when he had taken his final bow for Mad Forest. The more obvious romantic gestures were, however, set beside a binder of printer paper and it was that that Arthur lunged for first.

“How are you already that far into it?” Merlin asked a bit grumpily when he showed up ten minutes later, in a rumpled suit. The cast was celebrating outside, but Arthur was much more interested in the papers in front of him. Despite Arthur’s continued badgering, Merlin hadn’t let him see the script for _The Last Dragonlord_ yet, citing that he needed to stay focused on Mad Forest.

But now that Mad Forest was over…

“Not as Dungeons and Dragons as I expected,” Arthur said, leaning into the arm Merlin slung around his shoulder, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s head as it lolled against his own shoulder. “But I like my part a lot.”

“You should,” Merlin said with a bit of a yawn. “I wrote it for you.”

“Seriously?” Arthur moved so he could give Merlin a quizzical look, and yet his heart was thumping loudly in his chest. “You mean to say –”

“You’re just such a character, Arthur,” Merlin chuckled, leaning up and reaching forward to curl Arthur’s hair behind his ear. “I couldn’t resist.”

Arthur laughed incredulously, kissing Merlin on the mouth, still smiling into his lips. “You’re so weird.”

“I know,” Merlin hummed happily. “But now I get to see you play yourself onstage every day for the next few months. Clearly, it’ll be my best show to date.”

Arthur kissed him again.


End file.
